


Of talks and pubs with full mug of Earl Grey

by KairaKara101



Series: Concealed Velius [4]
Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Q, Multi, Multiple Crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KairaKara101/pseuds/KairaKara101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent meeting for Q in London ends up with bullets flying and people dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of talks and pubs with full mug of Earl Grey

In the darkly lit English pub, in the more secluded end of the bar, a young woman sat nursing her second drink as her sharp, dark blue eyes flickered briefly at the sound of the door opening. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a white collared shirt, and a blazer. Next to her, on the seat, was her warm, leather trench coat. Her slender, unoccupied fingers tapped the counter in a secession of patterns. As the sounds of the pub became louder, she tilted her head slightly while a man sat down two seats away and ordered a drink. The quiet whispers and conversations floated toward her ears through the haze of spirits that couldn't restrain her overly zealous mind. Her long, dark, black hair cascaded down her back in a wavy mess. She sat up lazily with her muscles coiled for a moments action when the man next to her gave her a small smile. She took a slow deep breath before running a hand through her hair and moving closer to the man. He raised an eyebrow from under his glasses in question.

“Are you drunk?” he inquired with disbelief. “It's barely noon. We are not in college anymore.” She glared at him before sitting down and “accidentally” stepping on his foot. He hissed softly under his breath and gave her an unamused expression.

“I'm not drunk. You'd know if I was drunk, Q. You've seen me drunk.” He watched her carefully. “I don't suppose you came here to ask that.” Q took a sip of his drink and made a face of disgust, thinking slowly, before putting it down.

“You're right. What do you know about the Syndicate?” His fingers twitched, hopeful for a response.

“Another problem arises, surely. Seriously, you would think that the message was clear about a battleship being pulled away for scrap. Why you need to know?” She put her drink down with a mild frown.

“Yes well, even the battleships are stubborn. I'm not getting them involved in this, not yet. They've been killing my operatives.” He pushed his alcoholic drink away. “Good god, I don't understand how you drink that stuff. It's repulsive.”

“It's the burn, isn't it? Just stick to your usual cup of Earl Gray,” she teased with a small upturn at the corner of her lips.

“Not quite like you to drink anything. Tisha, he's alright isn't he? ” He pointed out when she gripped the glass until her knuckles were white. His eyes softened as he went to peel her fingers off of the glass. “He's stubborn as a mule, and resourceful. I'm sure he'll be fine.”

“Having sentiment, in this line of business, can harm us.” Latisha's tapping fingers stopped as her shoulders sagged. Q studied her face carefully and noticed the shadows that hugged the bottom of her eyes. Latisha turned to look at him with a small frown. “I'll send you the information. Expect it through the usual routes.” Q nodded and moved to sip his drink before ceasing the movement.

“Come on, I need a real drink. One that won't cut through my insides.” Q put down the right amount of euros before pulling her up to her feet and handing her trench coat to her. His semi-formal outfit was covered with a green parka. She gave him a weak tired smile as they left the pub side by side. The London air was smoggy, laden with pollution that made her gag at her first breath. The air smelled stale; almost like bad biscuits. “Tisha? Why are you in London?”

“He's in London with his team. Plus, I got claustrophobic at base.”

“Brandt and the Impossible Mission Force?” Q pulled her along as she nodded. “Why the hell are they in London? I wasn't aware that they had teams here, and I run the top-tier communications in this bloody country.” She rubbed her arms before blowing into her hands.

“They don't, not officially. He told me that the new secretary had been selected and that the man was acting strange.” The two continued to walk through the sad and grey streets, an aftermath of a heavy rain storm, until they arrived at a small but cozy cafe.

“Is that man part of the Syndicate?” Q opened the door with his free hand while gesturing her inside. The two of them proceeded gracefully and silently towards the back of the small cozy brown and crème colored cafe to a corner booth, in between both available exits. Both wanted to be strategically placed out of habit. Their eyes raked over the occupants. A few tables away, there was a young couple with small shy smiles, eyes sparkling, and fingers intertwined, ankles locked together. At the bar with the heavy chestnut wood counter, an older gentleman stood heavily on his right leg. His fingers drummed against the wood as he scrolled through his phone. Near the doors stood two men with the darkest sunglasses upon their faces. Latisha noticed the contours of their clothing and notice a bulge next to their chest and arm. Her eye twitched before a petite waitress sauntered over flashing a flirty smile at him. Q could practically feel Latisha's eyes roll. The cushion shifted as Latisha sat back allowing for the booth to envelop her. “That's vexing.” Latisha giggled from behind her right hand while she crossed her legs at her ankles.

“What would you like, sir?” The waitress batted her eyelashes and puckered her lips. Q sat back and smiled a smile that barely reached his eyes.

“A large cuppa of Earl Grey with a dash of milk, and a double shot cappuccino with whip cream and cinnamon on top. Did I miss anything on your order, Tisha?” Q relaxed into the cushions as Latisha fought back another giggle.

“Perfect memory like always, sweetheart. I would also like two slices of Battenberg cake please.” The waitress nodded before running off with the tip of her ears red. Q caught Tisha's little playful seductive smile as it morphed back to her usual friendly one.

“Thanks, but you really need to stop doing that _dear_. I've had tons of banter with the battleship during his missions.” Q sighed with a light tone in his voice. His eyes flickered to the two by the door, one of them was talking into his cellphone, as the other's head was scanning the shop.

“I know, but I don't think she's your type anyway,” Latisha's voice lowered. “We assume that it might be Syndicate related. Nothing conclusive.” Latisha reclined back and tapped her left fingers on the table in a pattern. Q leaned against her right shoulder to hear better; his short, wavy, dark brown mess of hair tickling the side of her face. His face remained unchanged as he processed the Morse code. She nudged him once the message got through. The men's heads were moving back and forth slowly. She gave him a pointed look which he returned.

“They've managed to lay low. Not much to tell.” Latisha twitched like a jolt of electricity had passed through her. Her left hand dug through her coat pocket before pulling out a state of the art smart phone. She opened the encrypted message:

_The Syndicate, London. @ Almeida @ 9pm. -EX_

A second message pinged just as the two finished reading the first one. It read:

_Tisha, mission might go south. Might need SOS. Do keep eyes out. -WB_

Q and Latisha stared at the screen before they both snapped back into reality sharply as the sound of footsteps reached their ears. The waitress had returned with their drinks and snack. The two took a sip of their respective drink after their soft thanks. Latisha quickly typed into her smart phone while Q read over her shoulder.

_Have second squad on call. Sending info to WB. Send Syndicate folder, encrypted please.-LR_

Q pulled out his own smart phone and started tapping into it while sipping his tea. His fingers were efficient at hacking into the cameras near the Almeida. Latisha sent one last text with a worried frown.

_Meeting @ Almeida @ 9pm. Backup ready. Be careful. -LR_

Latisha slid her smart phone onto the table before slowly taking a sip of her cappuccino and a bite of her cake. She allowed for the cake to dissolve in her mouth with its fluffy moisture and a sweetness that was like a gentle blanket that wrapped itself around the body during a light chill. Q showed his smart phone screen with two screens that alternated between the cameras. Latisha brought her head up as one of the men had their fingers pointed at them. “Security is a bit tight, you can see a guard at every entrance or exit. They are really careful since there's a security detail the size of a small squad in there.” Latisha's eyes roamed her surroundings again with some suspicion.

“Q, do you know where your battleship currently is?” Latisha whispered from behind her cup of cappuccino.

“Battleship isn't active at the moment, but I would not be surprised if the battleship didn't stay docked. Do we need it?” Q returned from behind his own cup before he drank the hot liquid quickly. His eyes briefly jerked to the people near the door. His other hand remained on his smart phone. Latisha finished her little cake at a controlled pace and nodded with a tilt of her head. Q's slender fingers quickly moved through his applications. “Battleship will be here in five. Five, we might not have.”

“You're so popular, Q. Got any toys on you?” Latisha's muscles coiled with tension as she maintained serene. Q's own body had also tensed briefly as he glanced at the people again from the corner of his eye.

“Yes. Just the usual toys that I go out with. I do apologize for this. Didn't expect them to be onto me.” Q put his empty cup of tea down just as Latisha grabbed her phone and stuffed it into her inner pocket while gripping the metal toy, holstered by her chest. The pair, by the door, were looking at them with their mouths moving animatedly. Q hit a button on his phone and the cafe became darker. They were located in the darkest corner of the room. Both of them pulled out their pistols and got low on the ground. A bullet whizzed past them and lodged itself into the wall with a thud. Latisha took a moment to deposit the right amount of euros onto the table. Q quirked his lips fondly. He quickly pulled her along through the staff hallway. Latisha raised her pistol, and switched off the safety. The two traversed toward the back door when Latisha pushed Q down, by the shoulder, just as a bullet zoomed past where his head had been. Both of them crashed into the back of a booth with Q more disoriented. Latisha twisted around and retaliated with a perfect silent shot to the middle of the man's forehead. The man's eyes were wide in shock as blood trickled down his forehead and he crumpled like a bag of potatoes.

“Bloody hell! We have to move. That definitely got their attention.”

“No kidding. Your battleship?”

“Outside, nondescript car. I'll tell battleship to ignore your presence until I can explain without the worry of being shot at.” Q slammed his body against the staff door and pulled the car door open and the two got inside quickly. They were off even before the door shut. Latisha tried to relax her tense, strained muscles. “Get us to this location.” Q leaned over the seats to input the address into the computer and sat back, pistol still out but with the safety on.

“Who's after you, Q? And who's the woman?” a smooth male voice inquired from the driver's seat. Latisha studied the man, he had short blonde hair and really deep blue eyes. He was dressed in a perfectly ironed suit and tie. The perfect image of a gentleman.

“Ignore her for now. I need this car to disappear off the streets somehow. Can you do it?” Q held the pistol in his hand while the man's blue eyes connected with Q's through the rear view mirror.

“I've been escaping bullets and men much longer than you, Q.” He stepped on the gas and drove in a way that would lose any potential pursuers.

“Seriously, this is not the time or place to mock my age again, you old dog.” The driver chuckled fondly. Next to Q, Latisha was sending messages via text, her pistol still out and held limply in her hand with the safety on.

_Ambushed London Cafe. Sending images. Get analyzed. Message WB update. Change status: yellow. With Q and co. Safe for now. -LR_

Q stared as she hit the send button. The man glanced at her from the corner of his eye while driving up to the location and hiding the car in the allocated spot.

“Best we part here.” Q stated calmly while hacking into the cameras in the area. “You can make it back to your safe house from here?” He slipped the correct amount of euros into her pocket when she wasn't looking.

“Yes Q. I'll see you later. The cappuccino was delicious by the way.” Latisha put her phone away before getting out of the car. “Make sure to not die anytime soon. I would hate to tell all of my minions about your untimely death.”

“Yes, I have full faith that I'll die a sudden death. Just send me what I need.” Latisha nodded and readied her pistol while giving him a small smile. The door closed as she disappeared through the alleyway. “Let's head back to headquarters, I'll tell you what that was all about in my office. This is between us.” The man nodded before driving off again. Latisha glided through the London alleyways before coming upon an old apartment building. After meticulously checking her surroundings for danger, she slipped inside and armed her security measures. The room was scarcely decorated and had the bare necessities. She checked the room before grabbing stuff for a long, hot shower. When she finished her shower, she sat down in front of her laptop. There was a message flashing in the corner of the screen signed by EX. She opened it and found the attached files before composing an encrypted email with a smirk.

_Encoded Message:_

_To: Q_

_From: Tisha_

_Subject: Of talks and pubs with full mug of Earl Gray_

_Q,_

_I've attached an encrypted file with everything that we've managed to get our sharp teeth sunken into. They've move much quicker than I anticipated. There has also been mention of a strangely bored man calling himself a “consulting criminal” that has me worried. You keep an eye out for any of his infuriating games that involve people we don't talk about at work. Oh and how is your battleship doing? Still working? Thanks again for earlier. I heard Brandt's alive but he's an idiot. Hopefully, your battleship didn't give you too much trouble?_

_\--Tisha_

She had a tab open to the local news depicting an explosion near the Tower of London. She frowned when hours passed without any hints from Brandt and the team responsible. A few days later, she was hacking through the IMF's servers looking for access to the cameras. She saw a footage that made her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Latisha started to compose an email.

_Encoded Message:_

_To: Brandt_

_From: Tisha_

_Subject: Of answering machines and broken watches_

_William Brandt,_

_I swear I shouldn't have to hack into your agency's surveillance to find out about your condition. It pains me when I find out that you are on death's door every other day. You're still able to finish the accursed piece of fine technology, known as paperwork, therefore, give me just a few moments with a hurried text or even more secure way of informing me. Also, the watch you broke last week is fixed and is waiting for you in R &D. Just a reminder but your answering machine is still full and next time I will hack it to say embarrassing things for my own amusement._

_\--Tisha_

She walked over to her little kitchen to grab a mug of tea with milk and sat back down in front of the laptop. A gentle smile spread across her face while she was dressed in her most coziest and comfortable pajamas.

_Encoded Message:_

_To: Tisha_

_From: Q_

_Subject: RE: Of talks and pubs with full mug of Earl Gray_

_Tisha,_

_You got out okay, thank god for that. Thanks for the files. I'll do my own analysis on it. Oh, I told my battleship your cover story so make sure you have it up and running. Then, again you always have it up. I've been snooping around on this “consulting criminal” guy and I think I know what type of person he is. He's messing with my high-functioning sociopath detective brother. I'll keep an eye out for him as well. When is the next meeting, sometime during the usual?_

\-- _Q_

Latisha chuckled at the email before shifting through her other ones.

_Encoded Message:_

_To: Tisha_

_From: Brandt_

_Subject: RE: Of answering machines and broken watches_

_Tisha,_

_I swear I am sorry for not getting a message to you. I was out for a majority of it and h ad just gotten the okay to be out of medical. Though you seem more than happy to torment me with the knowledge. I'll pick up the watch at the next meeting. And don't you dare hack into my cell phone and change all the ring-tones to embarrassing sounds and put cat videos on it._

_\--Brandt_

Latisha laughed and started to hack his smart phone anyway, a devious smirk lighting up her face. _Shouldn't have waited._ Latisha made quick work with the ring-tones and filled up his entire memory card with funny and adorable cat videos. She used _ Love Me Like You Do _ as her assigned ring-tone. She had a huge smile etched onto her face as she changed his background. _Maybe I should hack his desktop._ Beep beep... Latisha's fingers froze mid code as her eyes made their way towards the red dot on her laptop. She safely closed all of her hacks, before she grabbed her headset and clicked the connect button.

“Director Riley speaking.”

“Director, it's Q. This call isn't strictly official but MI6 has a problem.”


End file.
